


Domestics Aren't Half Bad

by WhosInTheAttic



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Kitchen Sex, Pete's World, Table Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-29
Updated: 2012-12-29
Packaged: 2017-11-22 20:45:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/614159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhosInTheAttic/pseuds/WhosInTheAttic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor and Rose make a great team in the kitchen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Domestics Aren't Half Bad

The Doctor leaned back against the kitchen table, watching Rose beat the milk into the instant pudding powder with a wire whisk. Her arm was curled around the large mixing bowl, pressing it into her torso. The Doctor would’ve suggested placing the bowl on the countertop, but (he suppressed a cheeky grin) he was enjoying watching her breasts jiggle with the effort. He bit his lip to stifle the smile as Rose turned her head from the contents of the bowl to her human Doctor.

“What?” she said.

“Nothing. Just looking forward to having pudding,” he smiled.

Rose cocked an eyebrow knowingly, not missing the way his eyes raked across the front of her scoop-neck top. “Wanna lick?” she said, smiling, tongue touching teeth.

The Doctor looked stunned for a moment and sat up just a bit straighter. Rose giggled, holding up the whisk. “Oh,” he said, barely concealing his disappointment, “Oh, of course!” he said brightly, moving toward her.

Rose held out the whisk, but rather than take it from her, the Doctor closed his hand over hers and brought the utensil to his lips, giving it a swipe of his tongue. He gave her a mischievous grin and turned the whisk vertically before running his tongue deftly along the wires. He fancied himself quite seductive, judging by the way Rose was looking at him, but as he neared the end of the whisk, Rose laughed. “What?” he asked.

“You’ve got a bit of chocolate…” she trailed off pointing in the direction of his lips and nose.

He smiled sheepishly, with a glint of something more in his eyes. “A bit of help?”

“Of course,” Rose tucked the bowl into the refrigerator and dropped the whisk into the sink before returning to stand in front of him, this time closer than before. She reached out with her right hand, and used her thumb to take the bit of chocolate from the tip of his nose and slowly began to draw it away. The Doctor caught her wrist and gently pulled her thumb to his mouth, where he swiped at it with his tongue.

His eyes were growing dark, and when he heard Rose’s breath catch, a smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. That smile, Rose thought dazedly, always means trouble. The best kind of trouble. They leaned into one another, and she kissed the traces of pudding from his lips. She ran her tongue across the lower lip first, plump and warm and sweet, nibbling at it, sucking it between her own.

The Doctor sighed and curled his arms around the small of her back, pulling her flush against him; the feel of his warm, lean body against hers sent warmth coursing through her body. Rose brought her arms up to circle around the back of his neck, one hand squeezing gently at his shoulder while the other allowed its fingers to creep into his hair. He slid his tongue out and brushed at her top lip, begging entry. Rose opened for him and he plunged his tongue into her mouth, stroking her tongue with his own, and languidly drawing little whirls.

Rose gave a small moan into the Doctor’s mouth and curled her fingers into his hair, pulling it gently as her short, well-manicured nails scraped gently at his scalp. That sensation forced the Doctor to echo her sounds of enjoyment. She knew in that moment that she would never tire of kissing her Doctor. She’d known that since the beginning, but it was in these moments that the notion came through with absolute clarity. Something about the feel of him against her, the taste of his mouth, the feel of his tongue against hers, the way they fit into each other’s arms and lives, the way he fit into her; it was like everything in her life that didn’t make sense before, suddenly did.

The Doctor moved forward, backing Rose up to the kitchen table. When her bum hit the lip of the table, he pushed his hips against hers firmly. She broke the kiss and set to work pressing kisses along his jaw, stopping at the place just below his ear. When she latched on and sucked gently at it, he let out a small groan. His hips pushed forward involuntarily, and his hands swept around her hips and began pulling at the button and zip of her jeans. Rose pulled back and began fumbling over the buttons of his shirt, undoing them clumsily and revealing the firm, freckled skin of his chest underneath. She pressed her palms to his chest, enjoying the tickle of his chest hair against them before running her hands up and over his shoulders, moving outward as she caressed the lean muscles to push the shirt off. He moved his arms long enough to let the shirt fall to the floor, then immediately went back to Rose’s jeans.

He slid his fingers beneath the waistband of her knickers, leaning down to kiss the place where her neck met her shoulders. He listened to her breath hitch as his fingertips slid slowly through her curls, slipping his fingers between her folds, smiling into her skin as she gave a breathy sigh.

Rose could feel goose bumps spread across half her body, the chill created by what the Doctor was doing to her neck at fierce odds with the heat that was pooling at her center, where his fingers were stroking her she squirmed against the table, desperately fighting her body’s urge to push her hips forward. He quickened his pace and stroked her in ever-firmer circles, causing Rose’s muscles to tighten in anticipation. She curled her hands around his ribs and moaned softly, allowing her head to fall slightly to one side, giving the Doctor more access to her neck, which he gladly took. He left a trail of wet kisses up to her ear and back down again before exhaling a breath firmly against her moist skin, causing the goose bumps to resurface again and a wave of pleasure to wash over her.

He moved his left hand, which had been bracing against the table, and brought it into her hair, allowing himself to savor the feeling of her blonde locks sliding between his fingers. Rose brought her right hand down and cupped him over his trousers, spurring him to speed up his ministrations. Rose’s breathing became labored as she clutched at his length, her hips shifting ever-so-slightly forward as she resisted the urge to mimic the rhythm he had set. Suddenly, she gasped and went quiet for several seconds before calling out, “Doctor!” followed by indecipherable sounds of pleasure.

Rose suddenly felt like her whole body was made of jelly. The Doctor pulled away from her neck to look at her, beaming with male pride as he covered her lips with his own and kissed her deeply, easing her back on the table. He kissed down her neck again and to her chest, his hair tickling her neck and the underside of her chin. “Rose,” he whispered against her skin, hand slipping from her pants to grip her waist. He was using his other elbow to prop himself up while his hand squeezed her breast. “Rose,” he said again, squeezing her hip. 

There was so much want in his voice; it was a reflection of the want she had for him, the need to be closer to him, connected to him. “Doctor,” she sighed, reaching for her jeans and trying to push them down, “I want you,” he smiled and kissed her again; short, shallow, languid kisses. He stood up to pull at Rose’s jeans, and she raised her hips enough to get them down to her thighs. He tugged them down. And stepped away just enough to undo his own trousers, and Rose propped herself up on her elbows to take in the sight of him. His pale skin was flushed with desire, his trousers and pants around his thighs, leaving him fully exposed to her. Rose bit her lip and brought her gaze to meet his, “Take me, Doctor,” she said in an almost whisper.

The Doctor smiled and closed the distance between them, gripping her hips to pull her closer to the edge of the table before running his hands along her thighs to guide her legs over his hips. Rose lay flat on her back then. With one hand, the Doctor braced himself over her, and with the other, he gripped his shaft and lined himself at her entrance. He leaned down and placed a soft, chaste kiss on her lips before looking her in the eyes, “I love you, Rose Tyler,” he said; then he pushed into her in one smooth stroke.

“I love you, Doctor,” she said raggedly after he was fully buried within her. He stood straight then and held her hips in his hands, thrusting into her with slow, firm, deep strokes. Her breath was ragged as she rolled her hips. “Harder!” she gasped. He increased the force of his strokes, which in turn increased the volume of Rose’s moans and whimpers. He could feel her becoming more wet; hear the evidence of it as the sounds of their joining became louder. Rose bit her lip and cried out, “Faster!”

The Doctor gladly obeyed, and Rose had to put her arms at her sides and grip the edge of the table to keep the force of his movements from driving her across the surface. She gazed up at him; a sheen of sweat on his forehead and across his chest (one of the most erotic sights for her, considering the other Doctor rarely sweat) coupled with the way he was biting his lip and looking down at her lovingly and hungrily in the same moment; it was too much for Rose. “Oh fuck!” she cried, throwing her head back and closing her eyes tightly. “Doctor!” she called out, moaning.

Watching her pleasure and seeing her reduced to expletives was too much. “Rose,” he sighed, before uttering a few low-class Gallifreyan curses of his own, “Rose, you feel so good.” He ran his hands down her thighs and hooked his arms under the back of her knees, raising them higher. 

The new angle was nearly overwhelming, and Rose cried out anew from the feel of his flesh buried within hers. “You are, the most beautiful, woman, in the universe,” he gasped as he sank into her again and again. There was a look of such tenderness in him that it nearly broke her; tension coiled itself quickly in her belly and she knew she was close.

“So close…” she whispered, “Doctor,” she gasped, “Doctor,” again, “Doctor, I’m gonna, I’m gonna,” her words dissolved into erratic breathing and he felt her muscles clutching at him, driving him to the razor’s edge of his own orgasm. He thrust into her as hard as he dared, taking in her closed eyes, her open mouth, and the feel of her hips moving with him. As her orgasm waned, Rose let out a small sigh; that small sigh was all it took for him to tumble over the edge.

The Doctor groaned loudly as he came, and Rose could feel his body quiver within and against her as he emptied himself. She smiled up at him, finding his sweat-slicked body and the way he bit his lip as his pleasure washed over him to be endearing and utterly sexy. With one last gasp, he released her legs and collapsed on top of her, burying his face in her neck, his labored breaths puffing against her sweaty skin. She brought her arms around him and held him tightly to her, turning her head awkwardly to press a kiss to his temple. She curled the fingers of one hand into his hair again and stroked at it lazily, rubbing his scalp. He curled his arms around her as best he could without getting them under her back, and they lay that way for several minutes, panting, sated, and exhausted.

Finally, the Doctor spoke, “Rose?”

“Yeah?” she replied, trailing her fingertips lightly down his back next to his spine.

“We should make chocolate pudding more often.” Rose grinned at him.

“We might do.”


End file.
